


Overheated

by Rroselavy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Gunplay, M/M, Situational Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rroselavy/pseuds/Rroselavy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanzo learns the limits of self control (or, the real reason Sanzo needed the Smith & Wesson repaired).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overheated

**Author's Note:**

> Written (and hopelessly late) for [Springkink](http://www.springkink.livejournal.com). May 11 prompt: Sanzo/Goku: aphrodisiac, fuck or die, willingness - It felt like his flesh was burning, he was so aroused, and it was fucking humiliating. Whatever it was, it only seemed to effect humans, but Goku was insistent on helping him. As a bonus, it also fulfills at least one prompt on my [Kink Bingo Card](http://www.kink_bingo.dreamwidth.org): Guns. With much thanks to **Kis** for the beta!

A bitter cold stung Sanzo’s cheeks as Jeep struggled forward in the thin air of the high mountains. It hurt to breathe; the icy air burned his nostrils and the back of his throat before it was warmed by his body’s heat. He tucked his chin to his chest and closed his eyes against the frigid air. The sound of Gojyo’s teeth chattering was only a small comfort, one that was completely abolished by Goku’s snores.

The inclement weather was just the last in a series of insults that Sanzo had endured. First, there was a change in laundry detergent, which had left Sanzo’s robes stiffer and itchier than burlap. This Hakkai blamed it on the mountain water that he’d been forced to wash their clothes in. However, Sanzo noted, no one else seemed to be bothered by it. Then it was the coffee he’d been forced to drink for the last two weeks. Hakkai explained that he’d run out of time shopping. Rather than risk Sanzo’s wrath for holding them up, he’d opted for two pounds of decaf, leaving Sanzo bleary-eyed and grumpier than normal. The final straw, though, had occurred that morning, when Sanzo found that his entire carton of cigarettes had been thoroughly soaked, destroying every last one, because when Hakkai had repacked their provisions, one of the canteens had leaked all over the box. When he’d made his displeasure known, Hakkai had blandly commented that he didn’t know that Sanzo was so desperate for a smoke.

There was a certain quality to the tone of Hakkai’s voice -- the barely audible emphasis on the word ‘desperate’ that caught Sanzo’s ear and had him piecing together and reversing the sequence of mishaps to a singular point: a conversation that had occurred between them.

Sanzo hadn’t thought much of it after it happened. He’d found out that Hakkai and Gojyo were sleeping together and he wanted to impress on Hakkai that there was no way he would allow their romantic relationship jeopardize the mission. In retrospect, things had gotten a little heated; he’d reacted poorly to Hakkai’s defensiveness, and Sanzo’s memory now served to remind him that he’d remarked something along the lines that he didn’t realize Hakkai was so desperate.

Now, riding in sub-freezing temperatures, wearing clothes that only aggravated his raw and chapped skin, denied caffeine and craving nicotine, Sanzo could acknowledge that he’d probably stepped over the line with his offhand remark. Rather than draw some sort of Cold War out (in which there would be no winners), he would be the adult, suck it up, and apologize.

The sun had just sunk behind a ridge when Hakkai finally slowed Jeep down.

“We should think about stopping for the evening.”

“Fuck, Hakkai, it’s too cold to camp out!” Gojyo complained, his teeth still chattering.

“Ahaha, I’m afraid we don’t have that much of a choice. But let’s look on the bright side. It’s too cold at this altitude for even Kougaiji’s minions to be looking out for us.”

“That’s because they have some common sense,” Gojyo grumbled. “Be easier on them if we froze to death.”

Sanzo climbed out of Jeep. His limbs were stiff and his muscles ached. He felt Goku’s presence beside him.

“You and Gojyo go collect some wood.”

“But I’m hungry, Sanzo!”

“Then the sooner you find some wood for a fire, the sooner you’ll eat, moron.”

“And what the hell are you going to be up to while the monkey and I are doing the heavy lifting?” Gojyo asked suspiciously

“We’ll set up the camp,” Hakkai interjected.

After a few more minutes of listening to Gojyo grumble, then pick a fight with Goku as they gathered shovels and saws, they were off, trudging through knee-deep snow.

“Everyone is on edge, it seems,” Hakkai said, pulling the duffel that held their tents out of Jeep’s trunk. Next came all the supplies for his portable kitchen and then their personal bags. “Is there something on your mind, Sanzo?”

“I could really use a smoke.”

“I’ve already apologized for that.” Hakkai’s voice sounded tight.

“And some caffeine.”

“Yes, well … hopefully I’ll have better luck shopping at our next stop for provisions.”

Sanzo’s frown deepened. 

Hakkai began to organize his kitchen. “Would you mind starting on the tents? I don’t think anyone is going to want to stay up very long after supper.”

Normally, Sanzo would refuse, but these weren’t normal circumstances. After a cursory clearing of some level ground, he laid out the canvases, poles and stakes. Sanzo was actually quite adept at erecting a tent -- he’d camped out for weeks on end after his master was murdered -- a point which inevitably caused arguments when he critiqued Gojyo’s and Goku’s efforts. So much so that Hakkai had taken on that added duty.

“Gojyo and I will share one tent.”

Hakkai’s statement got under Sanzo’s skin, which he suspected it was meant to. That had been their usual sleeping arrangement, even after Sanzo figured out they were sleeping together. On the other hand, it provided Sanzo with an entry.

“About that,” he started as he worked on framing one tent, “I think we have a misunderstanding.”

“You were very clear.”

“I know what I said, Hakkai.” Sanzo’s patience was thin, but that was not unusual. “What I meant was that it’s okay.”

“I didn’t know we needed your permission.”

It wasn’t going well. A vein in Sanzo’s temple began to throb; a migraine wasn’t too far off.

“Of course you didn’t, but you also didn’t announce your new status, either.”

Hakkai froze when Sanzo glanced up. He could almost swear Hakkai looked _guilty_.

“That is true.”

Sanzo waited for Hakkai to continue. He had him on the defensive and, from past experience, pushing would only make things worse. Although Sanzo couldn’t think of how worse things could get unless Hakkai food-poisoned him.

“It was out of respect for you. We were concerned it might give Goku ideas.”

Goku already had plenty of ideas of his own. In fact, he and Sanzo already had an arrangement of their own.

“You think he doesn’t know?”

“Did you tell him?” Hakkai looked genuinely shocked.

Sanzo smirked. “No, he figured it out on his own.” Hakkai looked genuinely contrite. “He’s not as innocent as you think.”

Sanzo finished raising the tents, letting Hakkai mull that over. He could almost see the wheels spinning in his head.

“Sanzo, may I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he grunted. He tossed their personal duffels in the appropriate tents.

“Are you--“

“No!” Sanzo replied firmly. It wasn’t a lie. He and Goku had talked about _it_ , but had come to an agreement that nothing would happen until after the journey. The last thing he needed was dealing with a horny monkey. “We have more self-control.”

“I see.” Hakka shrugged. From the sound of his voice, Sanzo thought he was in hot water again. But Hakkai’s next statement allayed that fear. “I’m glad you both talked about it, finally.” Now it was Sanzo’s turn to wonder, but he decided that he wouldn’t take the bait.

“So then, we’re good?” he asked.

“We always were,” Hakkai replied.

After a few more days of walking on eggshells, it seemed to Sanzo that they’d moved past the incident. His clothes were once again soft against his skin, his coffee was sufficiently caffeinated, and, best of all, he had a fresh supply of cigarettes. Still, every once in a while, he would catch Hakkai giving him an odd, sidelong glance.

At first, it unnerved Sanzo, but Hakkai was a weird guy and as the days stretched into weeks, he was able to shrug it off.

They’d been camping out for the better part of a month when they came upon a respectable inn. The journey had become even more arduous; Jeep struggled in the thin mountain air and they still hadn’t become fully acclimated. This made their battles, as infrequent as they’d become, even more difficult. They were all nursing bruises and other minor injuries that Sanzo would not allow Hakkai to expend his energy on.

“I think it would be best if we could rest here for a few days.”

Sanzo appraised the low stone building. In the cold tones of early morning, its red roof and warmly lit windows glowed invitingly. A wisp of smoke curled from a central chimney. He looked at the map unfolded in his lap. There wasn’t another hint of civilization for several centimeters -- at least another full day of driving, listening to Goku whine and Gojyo egging him on. Sanzo knew something had to give and, as much as it irked him, he agreed to Hakkai’s suggestion. Neither Goku nor Gojyo could contain themselves. They whooped, undeterred by Sanzo’s threats, until they were wheezing.

He could see a small monastery further up the mountain. They could probably stay there for free, but Sanzo would rather use the Gold card and stay at the inn, away from nosy monks and their even nosier questions.

“All right, unpack the Jeep,” he said, easing out of his seat. He stretched his limbs and then walked toward the entrance of the building.

By the time he was joined by the others, Sanzo had secured two rooms. He would have preferred four, but there had only been three available. Hakkai would have insisted on betting for the opportunity to sleep alone just to spite Sanzo, and he didn’t like the odds, given that Hakkai never lost a bet.

After checking their bags into their respective rooms, they met back at the tiny restaurant. Sanzo and Goku’s room was sparely decorated but it had panoramic views of the Himalayas from its small window, and two single beds separated by a nightstand and piled high with down comforters.

Goku almost climbed out of his skin when the waitress brought their breakfast. She laid down dish after dish while Gojyo chatted her up until she blushed under his compliments and Goku thanked her profusely for the bounty.

The soup, which Hakkai had ordered for him, looked like a safe bet; there were chunks of root vegetables and mushrooms floating in it. Sanzo pulled a steaming bowl of broth in front of him, leaving the rest of the meal for the others. After he ate, he planned on making his way up to the monastery (better to get that over with so he could be left in peace the rest of his stay) where he was sure he would be fed again. 

“Ooh, that soup will make you extra very happy!” the waitress giggled.

Gojyo nearly spat out the meatbun he’d chomped down on. “Better bring ‘im the whole tureen, then,” he quipped.

The waitress’s eyes widened comically. “That would be too much!” she exclaimed.

Sanzo gritted his teeth. “How in the hell do you even know what a ‘tureen’ is?” he asked Gojyo menacingly.

“I’ve been reading books.”

“Did you trade _The Joy of Sex_ for _The Joy of Cooking_?”

“Yeah, well maybe if you got some, instead of keeping the monkey on such a tight leash, you’d feel a little joy, ya shitty monk.”

Hakkai cleared his throat.

Surprisingly, Goku didn’t rise to Gojyo’s bait or Sanzo’s defence. “S’okay ‘Kai,” he said between mouthfuls, “I know what sex is.”

In the silence that followed, Sanzo finished his soup. He could feel Hakkai’s eyes burning a hole in his forehead, but he was damned if he was going to apologize to Gojyo. He savored every delicious spoonful. The liquid had a silky texture and its flavor brought to mind the crisp autumn afternoons of his childhood when, as a student he’d rake the fallen leaves in the temple’s courtyard. After he’d gathered them into a neat pile, his master would nestle potatoes into them and set the leaves afire, raking in new fodder to keep them roasting. It was one of the few pleasant memories Sanzo had left of Koumyou, untinged by his grief and rage.

Gojyo was dueling Goku for the last spring roll when Sanzo stood up to leave.

“I’m going to go pay a visit to the monastery. Put breakfast on the rooms,” he instructed Hakkai.

As he climbed the stone stairs that had been set into the mountainside leading to the monastery, Sanzo felt his skin begin to tingle behind his balls. Soon after he arrived at the temple, it blossomed into an itch that was only aggravated by chafing against the denim of his jeans. It got worse during the greetings and banquet -- where he was served the very same soup -- and by the time it was over, his dick was hard and a fine sheen of sweat coated his skin.

He suffered through a tour of the 16th-century complex, every step an agonizing reminder of the raging hard-on between his legs. When they’d reached the inner sanctum, he asked for some privacy so that he could meditate. The monk escorting him was all too happy to oblige. Sanzo suspected it was because of the bragging rights his pilgrimage to this distant outpost would earn, but at that point he was desperate for some privacy so that he could get his body back under his control.

The tiles that paved the floor were cold under his bare feet. He rolled his sutra and discarded his breastplate then loosened his robes and let them fall to his waist. The cool air felt good against the overheated skin of his bare arms. He sat in a lotus position and summoned all his strength to meditate. It had always worked before whenever he found himself with an unwanted erection.

Even though the tiles were cold against his ass, they did little to quench the fire in his blood. He recited sutra after sutra, his lips moving in silent prayer willing his body into submission, but his thoughts refused to budge from their focus on his earthly desires. Every minute action -- the trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades, the crease of material against his skin tormented him, pulling his focus away from the holy words and turning it to the sensations that were arousing his body. He started to imagine Goku fucking him from behind while he knelt on all fours. He could feel Goku’s hard cock sliding in and out, stretching the tender skin of his passage. Sanzo moaned. then bit his lip to stifle the sound. He ghosted his hand over his crotch. The sensation of touching himself made him light-headed. Sweat formed on his forehead and rivulets began to slide down his temples and along his neck.

He stood up suddenly and pulled his robes back on. He might have been every bit the shitty priest Gojyo called him, but he would not dirty the temple any more with his filthy mind. He finished dressing quickly then hurried to leave.

He’d almost made it to the temple gate when the abbot called after him.

“Sanzo-sama! Is there something wrong?” he asked worriedly. “You look very pale!”

“It’s nothing,” Sanzo replied. He was grateful for the loose folds of his robe when he turned to face the older man. “Just tired from all the travel,” he added, hoping it was enough of an excuse to help him get out of the monastery quickly.

“You’re feverish,” the man declared. Before Sanzo could react, he laid his hand on Sanzo’s forehead. Sanzo flinched away, and he nearly stumbled to his knees. “Stay until you feel better.” The other man grinned lecherously, but when Sanzo blinked a few times, the expression was one of concern. He was a handsome man with long, glossy hair that he’d tied back in a ponytail. He reminded Sanzo of Koumyou when they’d first met; he had a similar nonchalance. He seemed to float above the ground when he walked. Sanzo imagined him naked, and wondered if, like Koumyou, his body was lithe and lean. He glanced down at the abbot’s hands and thought how good they would feel touching him.

He was overtaken by an intense dizzy spell and felt himself falling only to be caught by the abbot. A small crowd of monks had gathered. They looked hungry. He imagined himself naked, their hands groping his body, holding him down and as one by one they fucked him. It was as if the abbot could read his mind. “We can make you feel better,” he whispered in Sanzo’s ear.

It was some kind of a spell; it had to be. Sanzo drew his gun. The warm metal nestled in his palm reassuringly.

“I don’t need your kind of help,” he said sharply. The mob backed away.

The abbot eyed Sanzo’s gun warily, his palms out and open. “As you wish, hoshi-sama. It was not our intent to hurt you.”

That much Sanzo could figure out. The other questions he had would need to wait until he could shake himself free of whatever was causing him to feel the way he was. At that moment, though, all he wanted was to be in the safety of his room at the inn.

He turned and left hurriedly, paying no mind to the murmurs he heard. They’d all been in on it, and it wasn’t until Sanzo made it through the front door of the inn that he realized he was safe. He hurried past the bar and headed straight for the stairs that led to the guests’ rooms.

“Sanzo?” Hakkai’s voice stopped him. He was seated at the bar with Gojyo. “Would you like to join us for a drink?”

“No.”

Hakkai’s expression turned to alarm. “Are you all--“

“I’m fine,” Sanzo barked.

Hakkai wasn’t buying it, but Sanzo wasn’t giving him any more opportunities. He took the stairs two at a time while fishing the room key out of his pocket. A fresh wave of arousal enveloped him as his fingers skimmed his dick inside his pants.

“Fuck,” he exhaled.

Goku was splayed out on his bed, wearing nothing but boxers. He looked up over the edge of the book he was reading.

“San--?”

“Get out now.” Sanzo grabbed the clothes that were strewn on the floor and tossed them in his direction.

“It’s my room, too!” Goku said stubbornly.

“I will put a hole between your eyes if you don’t move, moron,” Sanzo replied quietly. He raised his gun and aimed.

Goku stared back unflinchingly.

Sanzo released the safety and cocked the hammer.

Goku sighed. He laid the book face-down on the bed and gathered the clothes Sanzo had thrown.

Sanzo averted his eyes as Goku dressed, not trusting himeself to watch him bend over and tie his boots. Instead he looked around their spare room before his gaze fell on the book Goku had been reading -- _Great Expectations_. He wondered why the hell Goku was reading it. Hakkai had probably assigned it; he still thought of himself as Goku’s teacher, and Goku liked to please Hakkai; especially if it meant more of his favorite foods showing up in the meals Hakkai prepared.

“I’m leaving now, but this is my room, too,” he reiterated. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“You will sleep wherever I goddamn tell you to sleep.”

Goku took a step toward Sanzo. “Here,” he said firmly. It was an argument Sanzo knew he wasn’t going to win.

“Fine. Give me an hour--no. Make it two. Just get the hell out!” He lowered his gun and eased off on the hammer.

“Okay.” Goku gave him a wide berth and made for the door. Sanzo closed his eyes and waited until he heard the door close behind Goku.

He thumbed the safety back on his weapon, then rubbed his crotch with the barrel. A groan escaped his lips. He parted his robe and began to rub the gun against his jeans, but soon abandoned that because the thin denim was in his way. He undid the button and fly, freeing his dick. He glanced down at it; it was nearly purple from the blood that had pooled inside. He rubbed the barrel along its length, then dipped it underneath and in between the folds of fabric and brushed it against his balls.

“Fuck.” It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough. His skin tingled everywhere it was touched and each minute movement against his erection sent waves of arousal washing over him. He needed release. He needed to come. One-handed, he began to strip away his outer garments. The sutra fell carelessly to the floor and curled up on itself. His bamboo breastplate clattered down next and his robe followed. He pushed his pants down off his hips. They slid down to his knees, enough to give his hand space. He leaned slightly forward, spreading his legs and pressing the barrel of his gun further between them. The warm metal brushed against his anus and he had the overwhelming desire to push it inside. 

He teased his entrance with the edge of the scope and his knees buckled as the nub parted the tender tissue. Wrapping his free hand around his dick, Sanzo squeezed and dragged his palm along the length. At the same time the barrel of his gun breached him. He drew a sharp breath and then bit down hard on his lip as he pushed it in further. Every nerve in his body felt on fire and the urge to fuck himself with his gun overtook him. His pulse pounded in his ears.

“Sanzo?”

He whirled to see Goku pressed up against the door. Humiliation washed over him. He lashed out at him.

“I told you to leave me the fuck alone!” He yanked at his jeans in a futile attempt to cover himself, losing grip of his gun in the effort. It tumbled to the floor. Sanzo glared at Goku, fury running hot in his veins.

Goku’s eyes were wide with fear but he didn’t budge. He straightened to his full height.

“Let me help you,” he said. His voice had a quaver to it, but his stance told Sanzo that he was staying put.

“The only help I need from you is for you to leave and forget you ever came back. Forget what you just saw.” A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Sanzo’s head and curved around his jaw. It tickled his chin before it dripped off him.

Goku closed his eyes and hunched over as if he’d been hit.

Sanzo glanced down. His gun was equidistance from them both. All he had to do was step over to it and pick it up. He felt his face heat up though when he thought about how he’d just been using it, and he stayed rooted in place. He was pathetic and weak and, even worse, Goku had seen what he’d been doing to himself.

“Please let me help you.” There was a note of compassion and understanding in Goku’s voice that only deepened the feeling of shame.

“How?” Sanzo snorted. He really needed to pick up his gun.

Goku didn’t answer. He stepped closer to Sanzo and then slowly raised his arm and laid his hand lightly on Sanzo’s bare shoulder. Sanzo knew he should shrug off Goku’s advance. He didn’t need any help, especially from the monkey. But it felt so good -- much better than his own hand and much better than he could have imagined.

“Goku,” he whispered, his eyelids fluttering shut. He swallowed hard. He trusted Goku with his life; he knew he could trust Goku now.

“See?” 

“Just get on with it,” Sanzo snapped.

Before he could consider the implications, he felt his thin sheathe being pulled over his head. The arm warmers followed and then Goku’s hands were coursing over his skin, the touches both soothing and arousing at the same time. Sanzo exhaled a ragged breath and was about to complain he felt Goku’s hair tickle his chest milliseconds before a nipple was encased in moist heat. At the same time Goku’s hands dragged along his sides. They stopped briefly at his waistband before yanking his pants down. One hand stilled on Sanzo’s hip, the other grabbed his dick firmly at the root. Then Goku sucked hard on the flesh his mouth had captured and his hand squeezed hard around Sanzo’s dick.

The wave of dizziness that assaulted Sanzo had him grabbing Goku’s upper arms to steady himself. He rested his head on Goku’s shoulder and opened his eyes. He could see Goku’s cheek hollowing from effort as, Goku’s hand worked feverishly on his impossibly hard cock. Goku was hard too, judging by the bulge that jutted from his pants.

Carefully, Goku began to maneuver them both towards the nearest bed. Sanzo felt teeth close on his nipple. The pain was sharp and it caused precome to leak out of the tip of his dick. Goku thumbed over it and spread the lubricating fluid around the head. Sanzo tried not to think about where Goku had learned the tricks he was using on him now. As Goku’s tongue circled his trapped nipple, Sanzo no longer cared. He thrust his hips wildly and his length slid back and forth in Goku’s calloused palm.

His hands moved to tangle in Goku’s soft hair and then he yanked his face away from his chest roughly. There was a split second when they parted, before Goku’s jaw released him when his skin stretched taut between them where Sanzo’s vision whited out.

“Holy shit! Goku … I--I …” he couldn’t say what he needed.

“I know.” They were at the edge of the bed.

Goku _didn’t_ know. He couldn’t know how, ashamed as he was, Sanzo needed to feel his gun inside him.

“Pick up my gun,” he whispered, barely mouthing the words. For a second after he said it Goku didn’t react. He squatted down and untied the laces of Sanzo’s boots. The nipple Goku had been worrying was still erect and had taken on a rosy hue. Sanzo felt some relief that he’d been able to verbalize his filthy desire without Goku learning of it, but the relief turned to disappointment. He shifted his gaze from Goku and to the gun that lay on the carpet behind Goku’s shoulder. It would be better to use it than to break their agreement.

“Okay.” Goku’s face was unreadable.

While Goku reached for the weapon, Sanzo rid himself of the rest of his clothes and sat down on the edge of the bed. Goku picked up the gun and made to lay it on the night table between the beds.

“No.”

Goku turned back to him and Sanzo saw his Adam’s apple rise and fall. He held out the gun for Sanzo to take.

“You do it,” Sanzo said hurriedly. He rolled over and came up on all fours, then bent his elbows to rest them on the bed. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

“I--I--“

“You said you could help,” he taunted.

“Let me get the bullets out!”

“Do you know what the hell you’re doing?”

“I’ve seen you do it a gazillion times!”

Sanzo was convinced Goku was going to blow his damn head off, but he was in no condition to help; his entire body was trembling and dripping with sweat.

“Got it!” Goku said triumphantly. Sanzo heard the tinkle of metal and then a substantive _click_ as the barrel was snapped back into place.

If Goku said another word, Sanzo was sure his head would explode. He felt unbearably vulnerable and self-conscious as it was. If what was about to happen were ever mentioned to anyone else, he would have to kill himself or them. Or maybe both. But even those thoughts failed to cool down the heat that had gripped him since the morning.

He kept telling himself the gun was his safest option.

The metal was cool when it was pressed against his opening. Goku tentatively pushed it further, and Sanzo’s back arched and he let out a near sob as it was slid all the way in.

“Now. Fuck. Me. With. It.” He ordered between gasps of breath, and then added, “Hard!” for good measure.

He felt the bed dip behind him to accommodate Goku’s weight and then once again, Goku held his dick, his hand now mimicking the movements of the gun -- sliding from root to head as the barrel was pushed in and nearly pulled out.

Sanzo didn’t last long. He came with such force that he momentarily blacked out. When he came to, Goku had managed to pull the soiled coverlet off the bed and was pulling a thin blanket up over his shoulders. Even though Sanzo was too tired to move, he could feel his dick stiffening again.

Goku began to take his clothes off.

“The hell you doing now?” Sanzo said, his voice muffled into his pillow.

“Told ya already,” Goku replied.

Sanzo sat bolt upright. The monkey _wouldn’t_.

“I don’t want--“

“But you need it, and I can give it to you.” Goku’s gaze fell from Sanzo’s glare to his already fully erect dick.

“You’ve been hanging with that cockroach too much,” Sanzo growled. He glanced down. As he expected, Goku’s boxers were tented.

“Yeah, but at least I learned a thing or two.” Goku knelt between his legs and in one fluid movement he took Sanzo’s cock into his mouth to the base. Sanzo was going to ask if it had been a hands-on education, but as Goku sucked him hard, Sanzo’s hips bucked uncontrollably. He cupped the back of Goku’s head with both hands as much to hold on as to anchor him in place.

He fucked Goku’s mouth frantically and then climaxed again within a few short minutes. It was a slightly less powerful one, but before Goku released him, he could feel the now all-too-familiar itch beginning to build again.

“What about you?” he asked the third time he came, Goku jerking him off. Goku was lying behind him, his hard length pressing against Sanzo’s ass.

“’m Okay. I can take care of myself.”

Sanzo rolled over so that they were face to face. “No,” he said huskily before he kissed Goku. It was a languid exploration on both their parts until once again Sanzo became feverish with arousal. This time they rubbed their dicks together between their bodies and Sanzo came after he felt the heat of Goku’s spend on his stomach.

The rest of the evening was a blur of arousal and completion until finally, utterly exhausted, Sanzo collapsed and fell asleep.

He awoke with a start, with Goku snuggled behind him, his arm draped over Sanzo’s waist possessively. Something clicked in Sanzo’s brain. He rolled over and pushed Goku out of the bed.

“HEY!” He yelled indignantly. “What the hell’d you do that for?!”

Sanzo glared at him.

“Why the hell did you come back here last night?”

“I … I forgot my book!” Goku blurted, his eyes sliding away.

“You’re lying, you little shit!” Despite every muscle aching, Sanzo hauled himself out of bed and towered over Goku. Goku shrank slightly, but Sanzo could tell things had already changed; for better or worse, they weren’t going to be able to pretend last night never happened.

“How much do the others know?”

“C’n I get up?”

Sanzo sighed and reached for his jeans. He pulled them on with some effort then reached for his cigarettes. He lit one as Goku stepped from one foot to the other nervously.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he said. “It affected Gojyo too, though maybe not as bad.”

“You aren’t making any fucking sense.”

“It was the mushrooms -- they made you all horny and stuff. Hakkai didn’t figure it out until he saw the way you looked when you came back from the monastery. It was affecting Gojyo too … and he remembered that Gojyo had that same soup you did for lunch. I had it too, but I didn’t feel any different. Hakkai said it only affected humans.”

Sanzo rubbed his temples. A vein was throbbing at one, threatening to bloom into a full-blown headache.

“Do I want to know how it was decided that you would come back here to ‘service’ me?”

“It wasn’t like that! I wanted to!” Goku protested. “But Hakkai thought it was the ‘best solution for all concerned.’”

Sanzo rested his forehead on his palm. Even if he lived a hundred years, he knew he’d never be able to figure out that simian brain.

“We had an agreement, Goku.”

“Would it have been better if it was Hakkai or Gojyo who came back last night?”

It was a loaded question, but Sanzo knew the right answer. It was his only answer. “Of course not. But that doesn’t mean--“

“I know! I know! This was ‘extenuating circumstances.’”

Another Hakkai-ism. Sanzo was pretty sure Hakkai was having a good laugh over his predicament. For a second, Sanzo wondered if ordering that soup hadn’t been a calculation. And then it occurred to him that Hakkai had more than likely had his hands full overnight and could very well be as worn out as he was.

And he was going to have to drive the entire day because there was no way in hell they were spending one more second than necessary in that place.

“Last night--“

“I--”

“You _think_ you know. What happened last night--“ Sanzo stopped, unsure what to say next. It would never happen again? Probably not with his gun -- he was definitely going to have to break it down and clean it -- but Sanzo couldn’t say it could never happen again, and not because he might accidentally ingest an aphrodisiac.

Goku was hanging on his last sentence. Sanzo could see the tension building in his wiry frame. He was worried. Sanzo stood and faced Goku. He cupped Goku’s head and pulled him close until their foreheads were touching.

“It was good,” he said finally. “ _You_ were good.”


End file.
